


Sins of Men and Kings

by Castilight



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe- Empires, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Gen, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on deviantART, Posted Elsewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castilight/pseuds/Castilight
Summary: Levi Galloway is a simple kid with an all too typical past. Rebellion always called his name and it is the only thing he can truly follow.Anthony Lockhart is a strange man with a loud and foolish voice. His desire to be different is obvious in all he does.Ryan Knox is a charismatic man born into royalty with a bright destiny. Power and strength runs through his blood.In a time where kings fight for the entertainment of their people,  how will these men survive the corruption of power and change?





	1. Chapter 1

_Men laughing, drinking, hugging one another in a local pub, shouting "Freedom from Sullivan!" and "Long live, King Anthony!" One of the men stood on a table in a cheap cloth as a robe, mocking the king. Others were taking gambles they knew they'd regret. It was a night of freedom few would remember. If only they knew what was to become of them in the next months..._

_\--_

Levi Galloway was dragged into the colosseum, fighting their grip with everything he had. He shoved, he spat, but, in the eyes of the Knox guards pulling him along, this blonde-haired, blue eyed Lockhart was nothing more than a nuisance. Even though his height rivaled that of their leader's, he was nothing but a peasant; a weakling. If Levi had half the strength of their king, he could've shaken off their grasp with ease. 

"What do you think you're doing?" the Lockhart spat, "I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't steal anything, I didn't hurt anyone! I abided by _your_ laws. Sure, I'm only eighteen but, that's the drinking age here. Unlike my home-,"

"Oh, for the love of God, shut up!" One of the guards demanded, silencing him immediately, "You're not here for a crime." 

Not here for a crime? He was aware of public punishments, and executions, in the Knox Empire but, his family had kept him shielded from that sort of entertainment as a child. He wasn't really allowed to watch other genres of his empire, not that he wanted to. More often than not, Levi would look to the Battlefield Entertainers, especially King Ryan, Master Entertainer of the Battlefield. For a majority of the time, these battles are simulations to entertain their people, the sole purpose of an empire, other than to grow and strive. 

He didn't really care about any other world. That is, until his family was taken away from him. 'Treason', apparently. He only managed to survive by running from his Mansfield home to the Sullivan Empire, where he'd join the Lockhart rebellion in its pursuit of fighting against violence in the name of entertainment.  

By the time Levi snapped out of his thoughts, he was at the center of it all. He finally noticed how many people were around him. There were thousands in the stands. What had he done to attract so many people? "If I didn't do anything wrong, what am I doing here?" He muttered to himself.

"I thought I told you to shut it!" The guard snapped. 

"I don't like taking orders from other Empires." He snarled at Levi. The Lockhart prepared himself for a strike on the cheek, for he knew that Knox guards don't like to be talked back to. Levi Galloway was never one to blindly obey. 

As the guard readied to strike this pathetic Lockhart across the face with his metal glove, a larger guard grabbed him by the wrist, "Now, come on, that is no way to treat a guest." This man made it sound more like a threat than a warning.  

The guard stepped away, "Sorry, captain." The guard apologized, staring at his feet.  
"You are forgiven," he nodded, "Return to the stands, all of you." he told the other guards by Levi. All three of them saluted their captain and left. 

This was a captain, alright. Not only did he have the fancy blue and white banners of a Knox captain but, unlike many 'officers' in the day, he had the composure and confidence of one. If Levi didn't know any better, from his Goliath size and broadsword of iron and gold, this had to be King Ryan's right-hand man, and older brother, General Xavier Knox. He sat only one step below the Queen, Talihah, an exotic beauty from the Sultan Empire, infamous for its intelligence, rather than its strength, unlike many of its bordering allies. It's always handy to have foreign allies, King Ryan's father, Alexander, always advised. God rest his soul. 

Even if Levi was gutsier than many people of his time, he knew who to fear and respect. That included the General of Knox's army, "Th- thank you, General." Levi stuttered.

The general shot a harsh, owl-like glance at the Lockhart. He clearly wasn't a friend either, "However, _you're_ in no position to be questioning us. You took the risk. On your knees." Xavier commanded. 

Finally! He was getting somewhere! With this new information, Levi pushed for more, "Risk? What risk?"

Xavier grabbed his arm, "I told you to stop asking questions." He growled through his teeth, "You know why you're here. On. Your. Knees."

Levi tugged at the general's bone-crushing grasp, to no avail, "So you can do what? Cut my head off? For doing nothing?"

Xavier had enough of this commoner's questions. He had no right to ask anything. Out of only impatience, the general kneed Levi in the gut. The crowd gasped as the Lockhart fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen. As Levi gasped for air, the general stood over him and tugged at his ragged shirt, making Levi look him in the eye, his calculating, ice blue eyes. Levi could tell Xavier was determining whether or not to kill him. His bloodthirst was infamous, "Do you have any common courtesy?" he spat, "You're supposed to kneel in the presence of a King."

The only thing that broke the tension was a mighty voice from the other side of the stadium, "Now, now, my wise but feisty brother, you said it yourself! That is no way to treat a guest. Why don't you return to the stands, with your troops?" Xavier let out a grunt before obeying his younger brother's command, dropping Levi to the ground.  

Levi tried to push himself up. When he got his grounding, Levi couldn't believe his eyes. King Ryan Knox. Even though he looked as young as Levi, he knew he was at least a decade older than him. Even with his in mind, Ryan appeared even more powerful and majestic in person than he did on the screens Levi watched as a child. 

As he marched across the colosseum, the cane in his hand depended more on him than the other way around. His blue cape flew behind him, showing an armored man in beautiful gems and furs, most likely from the Sultan Empire as reward of courting the most stubborn of the Sultan's princesses. His crown was made of the same iron and jewels as his boots and chest plate. Iron was such an odd yet humble metal for a crown. 

Below his crown, his hair was light blue, streaked with white. To be given colored hair during their rule is a true honor. It means they are meant to lead their people until your hair returns to its original color. Many leaders die soon after their hair loses the abnormality, whether it's by their own hand or of a divine power, nobody can say. Some claim he was born with the token of rule, even though it's had never happened in recorded history.

Ryan approached with a welcoming smile, "Levi Galloway! Get up," he welcomed.

The Lockhart obeyed, taken away by this man, "Y- you know my name?"  

"Of course I do! I know the name of each person who comes to sign up." 

Levi raised his eyebrow, "Sign up? Sign up to what?" 

The king laughed, holding nothing back, "So you _were_ as drunk as they claim. You intrigued me, Galloway. When I saw you in that pub for myself, I knew this duel would be fun for us all!" He turned to the audience, arms out, and got a tidal wave of applause. 

Levi was taken back, "I- I'm sorry? Duel?" 

"Uh-huh." Ryan pulled out a piece of paper and rolled it open for Levi to read. The paper was titled, _'Who Dares Face the King of Knox?'_ and, low and behold, there was Levi's name, homeland, and swordsmanship. He wasn't the most experienced but, he knew how to hold his ground in a fight, "You have rather fair handwriting for a drunkard!" The king grinned, analyzing the paper. 

"I am nothing of the sort!" Levi protested.

"Even if you're not the regular drinker, do you seem to have a love for liquor." Ryan teased, as if his words weren't as insulting as he made them out to be, "Besides, I always have my men near local pubs, where I put these applications. There have been some interesting duels from those morons. You remember, of course." Laughter erupted from the crowd, sending chills down Levi's spine. These people are completely morbid! "So," King Ryan said, tossing his cane aside to pull out a sword from his sheath, "shall we begin?"      


	2. A Fool and An Advisor

Anthony Lockhart laid on his bed, letting his mind race. He hadn't been able to think like this since he and his little rebellion escaped from Sullivan's underground tunnels. He honestly didn't expect it to be that easy. To rebel and break away. Apparently, all it took was a voice. A loud and obnoxious voice. Like Anthony's. It wasn't much yet but, the only place to go from there was up.

Truthfully, he didn't know how he was still alive. One of the more 'aggressive' officers was after his head in particular. Quite literally. _Your head is going to look great on my mantle._ He shuddered at the thought.

That 'officer' probably was nothing more than an over-privileged prince who had only heard of him in slanderous propaganda, making Anthony look like a fool. 'King of the Pandas', the press decided to call him, slur for militants who retired early because they didn't want to participate in the public tortures and killings. There is no difference between mercy and cowardice to a Sullivan. That kid was no different.

Anthony knew the battle wasn't over yet. It'd be months before Sullivan would leave them alone. Defenses had to be high to protect this stone and wooden village from their grasp. Hopefully, they'd survive long enough to make a name for themselves as the Lockhart Empire. And not succumb to what the Sullivan had for an excuse of entertainment. He knew there had to be a better way.

By now, Anthony was pacing around his room. He felt head tighten as his mind sat in the memories of his past. It was too dark. Too red. In his pain, an all too familiar voice echoed through his mind. _Distract yourself._ It commanded. _You can't protect the people if you think too much._ For years, he had followed his lieutenant's commands without question. In a twisted way, the lieutenant was like the father Anthony never had. Yet he never knew his name. Names were an unnecessary attachment to a soldier. Titles were the only 'names' a soldier needed. Anthony couldn't even remember his own name before the rebellion. They had taken everything away from him. His father, his mother. His childhood. Even now, he was trying to take away his soul. Anthony wasn't going to let that happen, if it was the last thing he did.

As he was about to slam his fist onto the stone desk, a tall mirror in the corner of the room caught his attention. Anthony walked towards it. The face of his lieutenant stared back at him. That grim expression, that judgmental stare, those blackened eyes. There he was. In Anthony's robes. Taking over his spirit. His hand shook for a whole new reason. Anthony tightened his fists, pulling his eyes away from the reflection. No! He didn't leave his monstrous home of 36 years to become this man. The Lockhart Empire was going to be something different, even if the blood of a Sullivan sergeant was forever in his blood.

Anthony shut his eyes, fighting every Sullivan bone in his body. He wasn't going to let them win like this. In fact, he wasn't going to let them win at all. They didn't deserve to. He returned to the mirror. The lieutenant was gone. For now.

He knew change was coming. For better or for worse, he didn't know. Anthony didn't know how to pray, but, in this moment, he found himself muttering for help to a god he didn't believe in.

_I don't know if you can hear me, if I even matter enough to be heard, but I am weak. Please listen to this soldier's pathetic prayer. I want-_ No. _I need to protect these people. They're depending on a bastard of a man. As my folded hands shake, I don't ask for immortality. All I request is for the mercy and safety of the men and women who decided to trust a broken man. My needs should be the last of their concerns-_

Anthony jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door, "Come in, Oslac." He called, pulling a hood over his head.

A young, redheaded man came through the door, closing it behind him, "Just checking up on you. No sign of Galloway."

"Surprise, surprise," Anthony mumbled to himself, making sure the hood was securely on his head,

"It's fine." He said, "It may have been a bit hectic last night, but he couldn't have gone too far."

"I don't know," Oslac shrugged, "I never liked that Levi guy to begin with."

Anthony turned around, "What do you mean?"

"It's just," he paused to find the right words, "he's just so young and doesn't seem like the 'responsible' type."

Anthony laughed, easing up a bit. That's all? "Don't you think you're being a little hard on him? He is practically your age."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we're both eighteen, I know." he groaned, "I'm just afraid he won't be able to do his job _if_ he comes back. You remember how much he drinks. He's already turning into an alcoholic."

Anthony's brow furrowed. Oslac wasn't going to let this go, "That is no way to treat a fellow advisor. He's still young."

"So am I!" Oslac cried, "But you don't see me drinking at every bar in the city! He didn't even show up for his own advisors coronation and you're treating it like it's no big deal."

Anthony crossed his arms, his eyes returning to the mirror, "I have bigger things to worry about."

"Like what?" Oslac snapped.

"Like things that are none of your business." Anthony scolded, "Oslac, it's not that I don't trust you. You fought beside me. _Bravely._ You trusted me to get us out of those tunnels alive and you have my respect for that. But Levi has the same respect. Hell, his swordsmanship is better than mine! I can't be lecturing you kids about social decency. I get we have a lot to establish but, there's more important things I need to attend to right now. If you want to talk to me like the adult I know you can be, I'll be outside."

As Anthony begins to push him aside, Oslac tugs at Anthony's robe, keeping him back. Anthony's brown eyes locked with Oslac's green. The two were evenly matched, and they each knew that. Tension broke when Oslac shoved Anthony into the main hall of the castle, throwing Anthony off guard. He didn't realize how violent his advisor could be.

As Oslac attacked, Anthony dodged, not wanting to hurt his advisor. Just because he was trying to hurt him, it gave Anthony no right to hit back. Something he taught himself after becoming a 'panda' himself, six months before. Guess there is still a lot of Sullivan in them. Especially the younger runaways. Old habits die hard. At least these kids have a chance to actually live before they spill too much blood.

With Oslac's youth, vigor, and focus giving him the advantage, he gets around Anthony and pins him to the ground. The older man thrashed to get his advisor off of him but, in the struggle, his hood flew off.

Oslac's heart skipped a beat. Anthony felt a similar dread. His hair was stained red. A bright crimson starting at the roots, going halfway down his hair. The color was still spreading. Anthony probably had until the end of the day before his hair was completely red.

Oslac pushed himself off Anthony, at a loss for words, "Your- your hair!"

"Yes, I know." He divulged, making sure no one was around to see them.

"This is amazing! Do you have any idea what this means?"

"Yes," Anthony groaned, pulling the hood back over his head, "I've read fairy tales. Follow me." He dragged his advisor back into his quarters. When he closed the door and made sure nobody was listening, he turned back to Oslac, "But I also know my history. Do you have any idea how many people have died because of this?" Anthony pulled his hood back down.

"Well, don't all kings pass away soon after they lose their hair color?"

"I'm not talking about that. Everybody has their time. I'm talking about the kings, and queens, who get 'taken care of' before their time because some bigger guy, like Knox, is afraid they'll become a threat."

The acknowledgment of King Knox surprised Oslac, "You don't like the Knox Empire?"

"No. Their empire is fine. They could be a good ally in the future once we get some ground. It's Ryan, their leader. Something always seems off about that guy when I see him. Like he's trying too hard to be impressive. I'm surprised he was able to hold up his kingdom for as long as he had. How long has he been in rule? Seven years?"

"Let's see," Oslac calculated, "He's thirty now and he was coroneted at twenty? Yeah, twenty. So, ten years, actually."

  
Anthony chuckled, "Geez, I'm old. One of the world's strongest empires has a king six years younger than me!"

  
"Happens to the best of us," Oslac smiled, "I should get home. Corey's waiting for me."

"Oh yeah! Congratulations to your wedding! I heard it was wonderful last night! Seems like you and your husband threw more of a party than a wedding." Anthony laughed.

"Oh, what can I say? He's the type of guy who knows how to have a good time. Maybe a little too much fun but, you can't not love him."

"Now go on home! I've held you up long enough."

"Thank you, Tony!" His advisor smiled.

Just as Oslac was about to dash out the door, "Wait!" Anthony called.

His hand stopped at the doorknob, "What is it?"

"Please," he took a deep breath, "Please don't tell anyone else about this." he said, pointing to his own hair.

"Of course," he grinned, "Your majesty!"

"Oslac, I'm serious. This cannot come out before I'm ready for it to."

"You have my word, Anthony."

"Thank you. Now go spend time with your new husband. Our first meeting is next week, with or without Levi. Dismissed!"

His advisor nodded before heading out the door. Anthony let out a quiet chuckle. Love can really change people. He should know. Anthony was no better when he was young. Speaking of their youth, he did have his concerns about equipping such inexperienced people to be his advisors. However, their energy and openness will give them the ability to adapt to new ideas and situations. Hopefully, that'll pay off in the long run.

Anthony began to think about his kingdom's future. How was he going to feed his people, let alone give them the entertainment they need? He may have returned the loyalists back to the Sullivan Empire, against Levi's recommendation. He doubted anyone would help with trade anytime soon. At least not until Sullivan backed off. Not to his surprise, it was, after all, an 'every man for himself' ordeal.

In the meantime, it was a good time to develop the foundation of their government. So far, he had three different advisors, Oslac Bellows, the legislative advisor, Levi Galloway, the- to be- military advisor, and Patricia Piper, the entertainment advisor. Sweet girl. Anthony knew there would be more branches to come in the next few months. He may have been a loud voice but, he was no scholar. These people were going to save the Lockhart from disaster in the long run.

Anthony turned back to the mirror. The change is startling, especially when you're used being so ordinary. So replaceable. He was going to be a king. A true king. There was much mystery about why a ruler's hair colored the way it did but, none of it could be proven. Nobody can prove there is a god in the sky dictating all of this. And why red, of all colors? Divine power or not, it was definitely cruel irony. He was probably going to follow tradition anyways. When most rulers come out, they use their color for their empire, if they survive.


	3. A Musty Cell and A Queen

Levi observed his surroundings the best he could. After the duel, a couple of guards had to pick him up and bring him to where he was staying. They brought Levi down to the lower part of the colosseum. From what he could tell, they were underground. The only source of light was the simulated torches that hung on the left side of the hallway. To the right, every few feet or so, there was an iron door. Levi lost count at six, but he was sure there was at least double that number. How long did it take to make this place? And why was it so quiet? Sure, it was fairly late at night, about 10:30PM when he arrived, but _someone_ had to be up.   

 

As they pushed him down the hall, Levi couldn’t make out anything the guards were saying. He couldn’t think straight, let alone fight back. So when he was shoved into the cell like a ragdoll, he didn't notice the cold air biting his face. Levi only felt the damp ground under his hands and knees. There was also an overwhelming smell of mustiness in the air. When Levi turned around, the door slammed shut, his ears ringing.

 

Levi did the best he could to fight off the haziness. Memories of the duel were alluding him. He hated it when his mind did that to him. Levi went over the fight again and again, in attempt to gain more details with each try. First, an iron sword is thrown at him from the side. Next, king of Knox ran at him. A swing here, a block there and, before he knew it, he was on the ground, completely dazed, with Ryan’s sword at his neck. If Levi was to lose his head, he couldn't complain about losing it to that gemmed beauty.

 

Fortunately, it was ended in a draw, for whatever reason. A moment longer, Levi would’ve lost. Both the duel and his life. Apparently, he did something the crowd liked. Levi didn’t understand how getting beaten to a pulp was ‘entertaining’ but, if he was doing something to keep himself alive, he wasn’t about to whine about it. 

 

But, at his next chance, by god, was he going to whine about these conditions. You’d think they could at least give him a servant’s quarters, with decent flooring and lighting. The closest thing he had to a window was a barred opening high up in the back of his cell, letting some moonlight through the bars. The glow showed a dirty wooden floor strewn in hay. He felt more like a prisoner than someone who won the opportunity to do something. Was there a reward to winning these duels? Was there even a way to ‘win’?

 

Levi wasn’t sure how long his luck would last. He was no entertainment advisor, like that Piper girl he met in the tunnels, but he understood, from personal experience, how easily a crowd can get bored with a person. From what he managed to scrape out of his jumbled memory, it looked like he had a day or so until the next fight. So, at most, he had a week left in him.

 

Levi needed to be ‘fun’. Play with his skills. Play with King Ryan. That was going to be delightful. After all, that was what they wanted, right? As much as he hated playing jester, he didn’t have much other choice. It was either entertain the crowd or lose his head.

 

\--

 

Ryan left the arena more tossed than he’d expected. That kid wasn’t just _a_ _fairly decent swordsman,_ as he wrote on his application. Levi Galloway had _talent_. It was second nature for him. Every swing. Every block. When that sword was tossed at him, a whole new side of Galloway came to light. What Ryan wouldn’t give to have that sort of subconscious power with his sword.

 

Ryan wasn’t ready for that amount of skill. This kid was either really humble or a really good liar. Either way, for once, Ryan Knox was thoroughly impressed with his opponent. He actually felt a few beads of sweat on his hairline. It took a serious effort to get Levi on the ground, let alone keep him there. He had gotten up a few times, invigorated and ready to fight. A moment longer, Ryan would’ve lost. Both the duel and his dignity. He couldn't afford such a blow.

 

In the meantime, he couldn’t worry about it. It was late and he had to get up early for a private meeting the next morning. A king’s duties never ended.

 

Ryan marched to his quarters, where his wife, Talihah was settled into the silken sheets, reading a book in her native language, “Greetings, Ryan.”

 

“Hello, my Queen.” he smiled. “How was your day today?”

 

Talihah looked up from her book with a sharp glare, “I know you don’t care. Stop pretending to.” She said, returning to her story without a second thought. Her forwardness often threw Ryan off his game. In all honesty, it was one of the few things that always did.

 

Talihah was self-confident, powerful, and intelligent woman. Her critics often called her ‘hostile’ but, she simply didn't care. After her mother passed away, she was her father’s main advisor for Sultan, practically running the country. The only thing that stopped her from being seen as a future queen was the lack of color in her hair. Talihah was able to make a legacy for herself as a princess. Why would she worry about her ‘hostility’?

 

Their assertive, extroverted personalities clashed often. Neither desired to be passive or submissive in their marriage. However, they had a mutual respect and attraction that allowed them to tolerate each other. Even though they did their best to present themselves as a happy, loving couple to Knox, the arrangement was mainly business. The only time they expressed any remote interest in one another was in public or extreme privacy. There was no in between. Talihah didn't care about his romantic charms. If anything, she saw past it.

 

Many of her people claimed she was blessed with psychic abilities. With enough observation, she could read a one’s true intentions. Most of her skeptics said she was merely a deduction master. Being able to read what people were already saying through subtle body language. Nothing supernatural. Either way, Talihah was an important factor to criminal law in Sultan, making the crime rate nonexistent there.

 

When Ryan first came to Sultan to seek out Talihah’s hand in marriage, he thought her abilities were a scam to scare away those who feared the supernatural. Any doubts were vanished when Talihah picked him apart. In front of Sultan’s court, nonetheless. Calling him ‘greedy’ and ‘power hungry’.

 

As some of the guards were about to escort Ryan out of the palace, she stopped them. Her exact words were, “But, you do it differently. Different than other greedy and power hungry suitors before you. I find it fascinating. You may be the one.”

 

Talihah had refused to tell Ryan what was different or fascinating about him, even after they married. He obviously had something that the others didn't. Talihah has had made it crystal clear that she didn't only marry him for his military and entertaining power. For all he knew, she could have been lying but, there was no reason to push it. She was his wife after all.

 

Plus, she's the security, legislative, entertainment, and executive advisor all in one. Ryan’s brother takes care of a majority of the military affairs but, if something happened to Xavier, he knew Talihah had the strategy and wit to take over. If she went on strike, Knox would fall like the London bridge.

 

The only place he didn’t allow her it interfere with was in trade. That was his department, and his alone. Even if Talihah asked way too many questions about why, it was one of his few wishes she respected. 

 

Ryan took off his cape and armor before easing into his sleepwear. Talihah never looked up from the book as he joined her under the covers.

 

 “So,” Talihah asked, “how did the duel go?”

 

“I thought you didn't care about my well-being.” Ryan chuckled.  

 

“I don't,” she said, “But I _am_ concerned about the condition of the empire that is protecting my people. Tell me about how the duel went.”

“Can you at least put that book down while I tell you?”

 

“Are you kidding? I'm getting to the best part!” Talihah retorted, her eyes never leaving the pages.

 

Ryan groaned, “Fine. That kid I mentioned, Galloway, very clever. He was quite the challenge for myself-,”

 

“Next,” Talihah interrupted, turning a page.

 

She hated it when Ryan went on about himself. Those sort of rants could last forever if she let it. So, Talihah would always stop it before he started. Ryan never appreciated this about her. But, what was he going to do? Hit her? She'd hit right back and twice as hard. Ryan didn't need to explain a black eye to his people or, more importantly, how he got it. He pursed his lips and continued. “The crowd reacted well to Galloway’s ‘underdog’ skills. It was a pleasant surprise. Probably has a week in him before they get bored and someone has to finish the job.”

 

“That's good. I knew that kid would excite them,” Talihah smiled. Not even a ‘good luck’. Do she have any idea how many young and attractive women would kill to be in her position? And she treated it like nothing.

 

To be fair, there was something unique about Talihah. Her energy was that of a conqueror’s type. He may have feared her if she wasn't his wife. As Ryan looked over at her, it was easy to see why she was known as ‘crown jewel of Sultan’. She didn't at all fit the typical pasty skin, blond hair, blue eyed norm of this domain but, her wavy black hair, sharp green eyes, and darkened skin gave off a different type of radiance. Add that onto a strong and intellectual woman, what could she not do?

 

Ryan’s eyes wandered back to her hair. He looked back at his own. His sky blue hair traced with white. Ryan cleared his throat, “You know,” Talihah finally gave Ryan her full attention, “We’ve gotten our hands on some of that henna material. Maybe we could finally...”

 

“Ryan Oscar Knox,” Talihah slammed the book shut, “For the last time, I'm not dying my hair to your color!”

 

“But it's tradition for the spouse of a ruler with colored hair to dye their own hair to match. We can't officially consummate the marriage until we do.”

 

Talihah scoffed, “It didn't stop you.”

 

“Hey,” Ryan growled, “Don't make it sound like it wasn't consensual.”

 

“Then don't make it sound like I have to beg for it because you're so ‘righteous’.”

 

“My point is that Knox isn't aware of our… activities. If something goes wrong and we end up having an heir beforehand, imagine their reaction. If they found out we broke this tradition, it will not end well. Public ridicule from my own people is the last thing I need right now.”

 

“Ryan, I understand the importance of reputation- I really do- but, at this moment, I am not carrying your heir. If I get pregnant, I'll take care of it before news comes out.”

 

“If you dye your hair and a month later you're expecting, it’ll look suspicious.”

 

“We've been married for five years now. Do your people honestly think _nothing_ has happened between us? We're only human, Ryan.”

 

“Humans with an image to maintain.” He muttered to himself.

 

“Look,” Talihah said, “I'm not going to dye my hair until I have to and no amount of smooth talking will change my mind. Goodnight.” She clapped the simulated torch lights off and slammed her head into her pillow, facing away from Ryan.

 

Meanwhile, he just sat there, still catching up with what just happened. Even after five years, her harsh tongue was still a jagged pill to swallow. Ryan laid down beside Talihah and let himself wander through his thoughts.

 

Keeping his mouth shut was never easy for him, especially now. As Knox grew, it took an increasing amount of effort to get people to listen to him. Among fifty million people, someone’s bound to be loud and creative enough to wonder if there is something better out there.

 

And who knows? Someone could surpass him. The idea of somebody snuffing out his legacy deeply disturbed him. He had worked tirelessly to keep his name above all, even Xavier, the original heir to the throne.

 

Beforehand, it was expected he'd gain the colored hair and take the thrown after his father's death. So, when Ryan earned the blue and white blessing, Xavier was furious and only returned to the palace after the promise of becoming the military general and advisor of Knox. Even then, Talihah could make an easy replacement if something was to happen to him, despite his power and respect.

 

Like every other night, King Ryan Knox dozed off thinking of his empire.


	4. Rouges and Black Magic

Patricia Piper looked at her watch again. Five thirty in the morning. He was supposed to be here half an hour ago. She wasn’t going to stay much longer. There were other clients she had to deal with. However, it was quiet. Not having to hear the chaos of her rowdy dorm mates. That peaceful silence, plus the fact she was on an impossibly smooth velvet couch, kept her there a little while longer. Might as well enjoy the luxuries while she had them. Patricia hadn’t had this much comfort in forever. She missed her simpler life. When she didn’t have to worry about basic needs. Like a decent meal. Everybody had to put a price tag to everything. 

 

Ryan entered the room with a sense of paranoia, checking up and down the hallway before closing the door behind him. Patricia couldn’t help but find his actions ironic. Worried about rouges as he was coming to meet with one. “Greetings, Ms. Piper. I want to apologize for my tardiness. I never was much of an early bird-”

 

Patricia jumped off the couch. “Let’s cut the small talk. Your lateness will cost extra.”

 

“I thought so.” Ryan muttered, pulling out a small leather bag. The distinct sound of metal tokens shook inside of it. Even with conflict between countries, by some miracle of God, a universal currency was established. Apparently, the Lord got tired of having to adapt to different currencies when rebellion emerged and having it go to waste when they fail.

 

She snatched the bag out of his hand. Patricia opened it and examined the coins. She knew the subtle differences between real coins and forged ones. Hell, even she was guilty of using fakes on some ignorant merchants. Guilty, but never charged. After confirming the legitimacy of her pay, she put it in her pouch.     

 

The only way you could earn a rouge’s loyalty was to pay for it. Ryan’s father learned this the hard way, thinking he could charm the Underground to his side with minimal cash. It took years for Ryan to regain the trust that Alexander lost. Fortunately, the trust has been repaired, but it was a serious road block at the beginning of his rule. The Underground had access to resources for trade better than any empire, since they have no specific ‘territory’ they stay in or out of. 

 

There are disadvantages for interacting with rouges. Despite its riches, their tactics are more than questionable, mainly because nobody outside the organization knows how they get their resources. It could be plain, old business, but many suspect theft. Mainly due to the fact that there was a correlation between the increase of robberies and the increase of rouges in an area. One day, they were your best friend. The next, they were stabbing you in the back. It was all a game of ‘Who can give us more of what we want?’ The only people they truly trust is fellow rouges.

 

Ryan cleared his throat to ease the situation, “I want to thank you for transporting that henna dye for-” Patricia tapped the face of her clock, telling him to move on, “Fine. Did you get anything on this new empire?” Patricia gave Ryan a small grin. His heart skipped a beat. “What did you find out?”

 

“You know? I wasn’t expecting this to be a very fruitful outing so, when you offered 50 medallions for this mission, I was cool with it. I could legally get some decent food for a few days, if I wanted to. But I think this information is a little more valuable than that.”

 

Ryan wasn’t opposed to the idea. He was loaded. And if it was going to get him what he needed, why not? “All right. How much are you asking for? Five hundred? A thousand?”

 

Patricia was completely aware of how ridiculous her offer was. But it was only impossible if she didn’t try. “A hundred thousand medallions.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

                                                                                                                                                                    

Patricia gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah. That might be a little much. Let’s go with,” she pretended to give it some thought, “Fifty thousand medallions. How about that?”  

 

There was no way he was going to give her that kind of money. Fifty thousand medallions for some possibly useful information about a young empire? No thank you. Ryan hung over Patricia, his hand pressed against the wall, “How about I throw you into the arena after I’m done with the new guy? It’d sure be a hell of a lot cheaper and entertaining for Knox.”

 

Even though this man was a foot and a half taller than her, and a famous _king_ nonetheless, she scoffed at his threat. “Please. Do you realize how quickly you’d piss off the Underground if you killed one of their own?”

 

“I’m not afraid of you or your organization.”

 

“You should be.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

She slid under his arm. “You know _exactly_ what I mean. Imagine if your people did.”

 

Patricia’s implications finally dawned on him, “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

 

“Oh, oh! I got one better,” Patricia said, “Imagine the look on Xavier’s face if he found out his own _brother_ was scamming him. I’m sure Knox would be really ‘entertained’ by then.” 

 

Ryan hated how right she was. Sure, he had plan in the grand scheme of things, but it was dangerous, no doubt. Everything had to be set perfectly. One slip up meant game over. He still had his people’s trust and he had no intention of losing that.

 

Ryan sighed in defeat. “Twenty-five thousand medallions.”

 

“Forty thousand.”

 

Ryan bit his tongue. “Thirty thousand. Final offer.”

 

“Nothing less. No funny business.” Patricia held her hand out. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

 

Ryan shook her hand to seal the deal. “By your blade.” If there was one type of promise he could never break, it was one sealed by a handshake.

 

And the rogues knew that. “There we go. Get this,” she signaled for him to come closer, “That Anthony guy you’re after? He has the king thing.”

 

Ryan raised his eyebrow. Apparently, he had never heard it described like that. “King thing?”

 

“Yeah. Their hair goes all magical colors of the rainbow?”   

 

“The King’s Blessing.” Ryan looked Patricia dead in the eye, “And you’re sure it isn’t a rumor?”

 

“It isn’t. I saw it myself. Anthony and one of his advisors got into this fist fight and his hood flew off. It appears the only people who know are you, me, Anthony, and that Oslac guy.”

 

“Interesting tactic. But it makes sense.” He didn’t act too threatened by this new guy, even though he could possibly be a rising competitor in the next few years.

 

“And that’s even not the best part.”

 

“What else do you have?”

 

“What's the name of that kid you're fighting in the arena?”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Just answer question.”

 

Ryan had to fish his name out of his memory. “Galloway? Levi Galloway.”

 

“And where did your scouts report finding him?”

 

“Cut the crap, will you? I didn't pay for puzzles.”

 

“Okay, okay. That's my last question.”

 

He thought about it again. “In the outskirts of Sullivan. Nearby the Lockhart-” Patricia could see the lightbulb switch on in his mind. “He's connected to the Lockharts?”

 

She nodded. “Not just connected. He's Lockhart’s Militant advisor.”

 

“Militant.” He leaned back on the wall nearest to him. That would explain the duel. Levi was probably chosen because of knowledge and experience in fighting.

 

But their leader was a Sullivan. Sullivans live for conflict and drama on the battlefield. Even if he didn’t see himself as one, he’d still know the ins and outs better than this kid. Why would he need someone else?

 

Ryan doubted Patricia knew. “This information has, in fact, been worth my time and money. You’ll be given your medallions tomorrow at six AM. Sharp.”

 

“I’ll see you then.”

 

“Just leave the way you went. My guards will turn a blind eye if you come across them.”

 

“That isn’t necessary.” She said, snatching her cloak from the couch. “But I appreciate it.”

 

“Remember. Six AM. Sharp.”

 

“You got it.” Patricia opened the trap door and left.

 

After she was gone, Ryan eased up. He fell onto the couch, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary.

 

A small part of him wished there was something. A weird noise from the ventilation, the creak of a spy who took the wrong step, or just someone to talk to. A busy mind made his plans indestructible. Nothing could go wrong. But there, alone in his thoughts, with nothing to interrupt, the challenge felt insurmountable.

 

To fight the ‘divine’.

 

But man had been doing that since the beginning, haven’t they? Surviving impossible things, including their own destruction, disrupting the natural order, even changing it. What here was different?

 

The defeat of these Sullivan renegades could put Knox in good standing with Sullivan itself. The queen was not one to trust her own court, let alone other countries. This would change that.

 

An alliance with Sullivan would give him access to ‘black magic’. Ryan saw it more as dishonorable alchemy, using odd and various types of science, but either way, this technology turned Sullivan into a world superpower, almost overnight. Rebels that once called Gayle a malicious hag began screaming ‘All hail the Queen’ in the streets like radical madmen.  

 

Many cried ‘witchcraft’. Instead of rejecting the claims, many women in Sullivan’s royal family, including Queen Gayle herself, explained how ‘magic’ ran through their veins. ‘Why cut off the hand that cares for us?’ they asked. Anyone who tried to overthrow her reign of witchcraft, or even questioned her credibility, quickly came to her side, believing she could do no wrong.

 

Ryan assumed this was a cover up for something much more advanced and logical than ‘black magic’. Magic made no sense to him. Technology did. New inventions were being created every day. The term ‘witchcraft’ was simply the ignorant insulting what they couldn’t understand.  

 

Whatever Sullivan was doing, he wanted it. If he could give Anthony, alive, to Gayle, she’d be obliged to give him something in return. It was a risk, for sure, but if he was successful, and if this ‘black magic’ was as powerful as they claimed, he could rule until the day he died without another question.

 

All Ryan needed to do was lure Anthony to Knox. Originally, he planned to give him a congratulations feast for his independence from Sullivan. The hard part would’ve been to isolate him, especially with his new hair coming into play.

 

But Levi. He changed the whole game. He gave Ryan a potential safety net. If Anthony was as selfless as he claimed, he’d do everything in his newfound power to find his lost advisor. If he was able to, there is a decent chance he would look for Levi himself.

 

Timing was important here. Galloway needed to be fought in the arena scarcely, but not scarcely enough to make others wonder why. It was merely a waiting game.

 

And it wasn’t Ryan’s first.


	5. A Steroid and A Dagger

Levi swung a straw sword in the stale air, a strong swoop echoing though his cell. It was between this and a straw bed. Not that he needed one. He’s gone three battles without it. Besides, facing death would make anyone an insomniac.   
  
In the meantime, Levi didn’t want to sit around and do nothing. Might as well give Knox a good show. Maybe someone in the crowd would remember him as ‘that kid who put up a hell of a fight’. There were worse ways to leave this world.   
  
Levi hoped that Lockhart would be okay. He wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t looking for him. Levi wasn’t even supposed to be a part of this crazy adventure to begin with. He accidentally stumbled into their meeting, where he was looking for a ‘Secret Bar’ next door.  
  
Despite his lanky structure, his physical power was evident. They only let him stay because he managed to knock out their two toughest guys, who were supposed to guard the door from unwanted intruders. Even if it wasn’t the best first impression, they were short a few guys. The more firepower they could get, the better.  
  
God bless Anthony. Being an ex-military man, he sure had a lot of trust in some strange kid who walked in on them and knocked out a couple of his men. He was the first one to approach him, against the will of everyone else in the room. For all Anthony knew, Levi could’ve been an assassin hired by the Sullivan Empire to kill him. Yet, even after every hideous act he had witnessed, after being taught that everyone unfamiliar was out to get you, he approached Levi.    
  
When the straw was bound tightly enough, he could take himself back to that memory. Anthony took a sword from the wall and threw it at Levi, with many of his friends shouting at him. And he charged. With an instinctive grace, Levi blocked it. He hadn’t handled a sword in a long time. But when his father made him practice swordsmanship three hours a day for a few years, since he were eight, something was going to stick.   
  
The swords’ clash filled the room. They held the lock. Despite being a small man, especially compared to Levi, Anthony could make himself a giant. He studied Levi. His eyes in particular. What on earth was Anthony looking for? His expression softened. He pulled back.   
  
There was some conversation at the table behind them. Anthony took a deep breath asked him a simple question. “Do you wish for freedom?” Of course, Levi said yes. He wanted nothing else. Anthony offered him a seat and the rest was history.  
  
Levi threw the pathetic sword to the ground and let himself sit down. For the first time in years, he belonged to something important. Now, he was stuck in a musty cell, waiting for his final duel, which would be God knows when.   
  
He spent his life running from the type entertainment he was going to die to. That was to be his legacy. The boy who ran. Nobody would know otherwise. For Lockhart, Levi Galloway was the coward who ran from responsibility. If only he could explain. If only he could explain how he was taken from the one thing that had given him meaning in his own life. Something to go after. If he could say anything to Lockhart, to Anthony, he’d wish them the best of luck. The world had gone many years without him. The world can go many more.    
  
But that doesn’t mean he’ll go down without a fight.   
  
Levi was just about to grab his sword and continue his training when he heard the eye slit on his door opened. That was his food. Even in these prison-like conditions, at least the food was decent. Nothing luxurious but, it kept him well fed.   
  
A guard peered through the hole. “Galloway?”   
  
Levi jumped up from where he was sitting. “Still here. Haven’t escaped yet.”   
  
He couldn’t see it, but he had a feeling the guard rolled his eyes. “Real funny, wise guy.”   
  
Levi smiled. “I’d like the think so.” The bottom slit opened up and Levi reached for the food. He felt the wooden tray slip from his fingers. “We’re doing this again?”    
  
The guard chuckled. “It’s fun.”   
  
“Not for the starving prisoner over here.”   
  
“Don’t be so dramatic. Hunger will be the least of your problems soon enough. You’ll be-”  
  
“‘Put down like a dog’, ‘you’ll spend the rest of my remaining life entertaining Knox’, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. I get the gist.” Levi stretched his arms out further for his food.  
  
“Ah, ah, ah,” he teased, pulling the tray farther from Levi, “you know what you have to do first.”   
     
“You like that way too much.”   
  
“What can I say? I still get a kick out of it.”    
  
“Can’t I just use please and thank you?”   
  
“Maybe if you used your manners earlier, that would’ve worked.”   
  
“No, it wouldn’t have.”  
  
The guard was quiet. “Just say it.”  
  
Levi groaned before clearing his throat. He brought his voice to a high, child-like pitch and said, “Feed me, daddy.”  
  
The guard laughed, finally giving Levi his dinner. He snatched it away from the hole so the guard couldn’t tease him again. “Oh, man, that’ll never get old. Bon appetite, you drunkard scum.” The guard kept laughing as he left the corridor.   
  
“I really hope it does.” Levi muttered. At least he had his food now. Bread, sweetened water, and some meat. It was no king’s feast, but it kept him fed. Levi was always a focused eater. Once he started eating, the rest of the world faded out until he was done with his meal. Nothing could be out of the ordinary.    
  
So when Levi heard metal thud on the stone floor, he nearly choked on his chicken.  
  
After having a tiny heart attack, Levi regained his bearings. At his door, there was a parchment and a small dagger.     
  
He listened for any footsteps. If anyone heard that, Levi betted they would come running. Once he felt absolutely certain nobody heard the clang, he picked up the dagger. The blade curved in and out, creating a jagged hourglass effect. He couldn’t identify where or who this may had been made by. The leather handle could’ve been from around here, but this sort of blade design is only found in Asian domains.    
  
Levi put the dagger down and opened the folded parchment. The handwriting was rushed, making it difficult to read.   
  
 _Levi,  
I think I know who you are. I’m am on a different mission, but, if this really is Levi Galloway, my employer is looking for you. You need to escape for reasons I hope are obvious to you. I can’t get you out of that cell, but I think I can help. You see that dagger? It was mine. Don’t worry about returning it. There’s plenty more where that came from. Take good care of it and get your ass out of here.    
Good luck._      
  
The letter was signed with a large, fancy U. Could this really be the Underground? If this really was  _the_  rouge organization, what on earth were they doing around here, giving their own daggers to a random prisoner? It seemed pretty dumb on the rouge’s behalf.   
  
Levi picked up the dagger. That would explain its blended design. He would’ve never thought to mix Asian and European styles. Most weapons were more functional than pretty, especially among lower classes. But, boy, did the Underground know how to have style.  
  
Levi had lost hope in ever coming out of Knox alive, but, now that the opportunity presented itself, every instinct in his body told him to take it.   
  
The door unlocked with a loud click. Levi jumped. If he was caught with a real weapon, he was screwed nine ways till Sunday. Levi stuffed the dagger into his shirt as comfortably as he could without stabbing himself.   
  
A couple of guards opened the doors. “It’s time, Galloway.”   
  
The guards got behind him. One of them was just about to lock Levi in handcuffs when he noticed the parchment on the floor. It peaked his concern. “Hold him here.” He shoved Levi to his partner and picked up the paper.   
  
Levi’s heart sunk. The contents of that letter could not leave this room. Levi ripped out of the guard’s grasp, throwing the two forward. He pulled the dagger out of his shirt and pointed it at the guard in front of him. Both of the men were startled. The guard holding the parchment put his hands out, in an attempt to calm him. “Easy, Galloway. Put the weapon down.”   
  
Levi brought the dagger closer to his face. “Put the parchment down.”   
  
He looked at the paper. “What’s in it?”   
  
There wasn’t much else Levi could do. If they think he was associated with the Underground, he’d be as good as dead. As he was about to open it, Levi stabbed him between a leather joint of the armor that connected the torso and arm piece. The guard clutched his shoulder and fell to his knees, holding back the urge to cry out. Levi pulled the letter out of his hand and put it in his shirt.   
  
The other guard ran out the door, probably trying to call for backup. He ran after him and dived in for a choke hold, pulling him back to the cell. Levi kept muttering ‘go to sleep’ and ‘I’m sorry’ in his ear, hoping another guy wouldn’t walk in. Two enemies was more than enough. After the longest five seconds of his life, he dropped to the ground. It wasn’t long until the guard sat up, holding his head in his hand.   
  
Levi had to dash. Now.   
  
To the right, there was a large metal door. Probably needed a key. A key that was on the guards. He’d get caught right then and there.   
  
He could head left, to the arena. It was a barred gate he could probably slip through if he tried. But it’s so open. And people were probably already filling the coliseum. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.   
  
Both were risky. After a quick iny-mini-miny-mo, he ran to the left and flew up a flight of stairs.   
  
\--  
  
That bastard.   
  
The guard clutched his neck, pushing away the haze as best he could. Jesus, Galloway had a hell of a grip for someone of his build. He turned to his partner, who was staring beyond the room. “Abbott!”    
  
“I’m fine, Carmichael.” Sergeant Abbott removed his hand. He was getting blood all over his hand. Abbot tried to stand up, but a new wave a nausea ran over him.   
  
Sergeant Carmichael eased his partner down. “You’re in no condition to help. You have to stay here.”   
  
“Carmichael, I’m okay.”   
  
“Oh really? Raise your left arm, then.” Abbott looked down. He had feeling in his arm, but he knew it’d hurt like hell and cause further damage. Carmichael sighed. “Just wait here. I’ll be back before you know it.”   
  
Abbott grabbed Carmichael’s wrist with his good hand. “What if he attacks you? I don’t want you getting hurt too.”   
  
Carmichael blinked away a few more spots in his vision. “I’ll be quick. If I’m not back in about a minute, run for the alarm. I’ll come back here if I trigger it.”   
  
Abbott hung his head. They were wasting time. “Fine. Just don’t do anything stupid.”   
  
“For once, I won’t.”   
  
Carmichael headed out the door and to the right, keeping one hand on the wall for support. He didn’t like being vulnerable. For all he knew, Galloway could sneak up on him and finish the job.   
  
But he had to keep going.   
  
One step at a time, he headed up the stairs. Why couldn’t it be at the bottom of the flight? This was going to be a complaint to his higher ups later on. Finally, he reached the top. Carmichael opened a plastic casing. There was a red button with a speaker next to it.   
  
He slammed his hand into the button.   
  
\--  
  
Xavier flicked the syringe with his finger to get rid of any bubbles stuck in the dark liquid. Even if his brother was a complete ass of a human being, these steroids hit the spot.   
  
They were an African supplement Ryan discovered a few years ago. This Nea Zoi steroid could bring humanity’s physical abilities to a whole new level. It gave him a strange sense of sharpness in his physical abilities.   
  
His hands shook with anticipation. Xavier steadied himself so he could get the vein on his wrist. Missing meant he’d get a bloody mess all over his desk. It was always a pain to clean up. The cleaning lady was banned his office. Not many people know about this revolutionary drug. He wasn’t going to let some maid blab about this, even if it meant his fortress of solitude was a little messier than the rest of the castle.  
  
An alarm blared on his desk.  Xavier flinched and the needle slashed him before shattering on the ground. Xavier swore under his breath before pulling out a roll of bandages and wrapping it around his wrist. He ripped the strip away from the roll with his teeth. Xavier could’ve wiped up the liquid, but he could do that later. It wasn’t lethal or staining.   
  
That irritating alarm was still going nuts. Xavier slammed his fist into the response button. “What?”   
  
“This is Sergeant Tobias Carmichael. Galloway has escaped. He has a knife with him.”  
  
Where on earth did he get a knife? That would have to be addressed later. This Carmichael most likely doesn’t know. “I’m putting the arena and castle under lockdown. Is anyone with you?”   
  
“Yes. His name is Sergeant George Abbott. He’s been stabbed. We need medical assistance.”   
  
Xavier struggled to concentrate. But he wasn’t going to show it. “All right. Nurses should be there in about 15 minutes.”   
  
“Fifteen minutes?!”   
  
“Yes. We’re headed into lockdown. It’ll take time. Is the wound lethal?”  
  
“No. He’s just in a lot of pain.”   
  
“Your partner can handle pain. You’ve both experienced battle before.”   
  
“Only simulated ones.”   
  
Xavier grumbled. “Then consider this your pre-battle training. Help is on the way. We’re going into lockdown.”  
  
“Sir, yes, sir!” The feed was cut off. Xavier opened a yellow and black button and smashed it. A loud siren rang throughout the castle. The whine worsened the headache he had coming into his office. Next to it was a blue button with a speaker. He pressed that to notify the nurses.   
  
An aged Latina voice came from the speaker. “Yes?”   
  
“There’s two sergeants, by the names of Abbott and Carmichael, stuck in the arena’s holding area. One of them is hurt.”   
  
“Yes, yes. I ready. Me and Isabella can go now.”   
  
“Wait, wait. The attacker may still be down there. Get a few guards to accompany you.”  
  
“No, no. I fine. Maria and I can kick his culo on our own.”  
  
“I’m sending one down with you.”   
  
“Fine. If it’ll make you feel safe. Bless you, Xavier.”   
  
“Bless you too, Gloria.” He couldn’t help smiling. Such a sweet woman. Much like a third grandmother to him.   
  
Xavier made his way to the cupboard. Inside, there were boxes of the Nea Zoi. Each syringe was neatly stacked inside. There was enough in the cubby to last a lifetime. He pulled out another syringe and tapped the glass. He walked back to his desk and removed the bandage. There was a little bit of blood but, not much. The siren kept ringing, but it was merely a small racket in the background now.   
  
Xavier put the needle in his vein and pushed the liquid into his bloodstream. He pulled it out, and threw it into a trashcan across the room. As he sat there, he felt the tension in his head loosen. He felt like he could crush metal in his bare hands. Xavier laid back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He could see himself from below, like his spirt sat above him.   
  
These short few minutes gave him a sense of freedom. He closed his eyes and enjoyed it.    
  
\--  
  
Levi turned his attention to the task at hand. He had to get though a barred gate and into the arena. Without detection. His 6’ 4” height was definitely going to be unhelpful here. He went in head first, bending and turning his neck to fit trough. Then there was his shoulders. After that, it would be a piece of cake. He grabbed onto a couple of bars to help himself balanced. The metal burned of cold. To his luck, nobody was really paying attention to the freak squeezing his way through the arena gate. If there was, nobody was making a ruckus about it.   
  
When Levi managed to get his shoulders through the gate, a deafening alarm wailed throughout the arena. The noise made Levi jump and fall through the rest of the gate.   
  
 _The coliseum is on lockdown. Stay alert. The coliseum is on lockdown. Stay alert._      
  
Well, that’s great. Just peachy. The arches surrounding the coliseum began to close with large metal doors. And these weren’t barred like the arena gate. Pure, thick steel with absolutely no openings. Levi thought of trying to slip under it, but the idea was suicide. He’d either get caught red handed or, even worse, he’d manage to get under the door, but not far enough before it would crush him.     
  
But what else could he do? Heading up into the crowd wouldn’t crack his skull, but someone was bound to give him away. After all, he was at least a half head taller than most of the crowd. Levi was fairly certain that nobody would be let out of this arena until he was found and killed. He heard chants from the crowd to finish him in his previous battles. It’d be a win-win situation for everyone except him.  
  
Levi saw a bright white flash out of the corner of his eye. He turned around without a second thought. It was a camera. What was he thinking? Of course they’d have a security camera by the gate where captives were held. The camera flashed again. Levi blinked out the light spots it left.  
  
Out of the arena ground, a 3-D hologram popped out of the ground. Probably some projector for emergencies like this. On the hologram, there he was. For the thousands to behold. Now, the crowd would definitely know who he was, in all his high definition glory. Blending in wasn’t an option now.   
  
Levi looked to the nearest door. It was closed about halfway. He had to try. At least it would look pretty badass, if anyone was watching. No guards appeared to be after him. Yet.   
  
Levi made a run for it.


End file.
